Paper Planes
by ABoxFullOfSharpObjects
Summary: Survivors do what they do. Try and pick up the pieces, but who knows where those pieces are supposed to go. StormxDeadpool friendship/family/kind of romance? thing.


Disclaimer: Deadpool and Storm are Marvel's. Deadpool's references aren't his, or mine. In fact, two belong to M.I.A. and P!nk. What is mine? All your base.

Timeline: AU, I guess.

Author's Note: I really...don't have a reason for this aside from some friends and their X-Men talk got this idea in my head. It was _supposed_ to just be a drabble of maybe, _maybe_ a full page. Effin' ten full pages in Word...I'd never read a Deadpool comic up to two weeks ago either. Now I have a firmly established Deadhead muse taking up residence and harassing my other characters. If he's not batshit enough, I apologize. I did the best I could with the version I like. Even if your Deadpool doesn't agree with my Deadpool, I hope you'll still let him come over and play. :)

~*~*~

The kitchen was a nice place. It was one of the only nice places left in the the house that had four walls. The other being their back living room and five out of fifteen bedrooms. At least in the kitchen she could pretend, she could act like everything was okay, even if it wasn't. Even if when she turned the stove down, the smell of ashes was still present. Or when he turned the TV down, the screams might still echo.

In the kitchen, while she was making a dinner that could feed five, she was only thinking of two. He was still looking for other survivors when he wasn't leading _them_ away. When he wasn't doing that, he was looking for food and weapons. And when he wasn't doing _that_, he was looking for DVDs.

Because home repairs tended to tax his healing factor and his very limited patience.

_Zzzt!_

" YEEOW! " A booted foot kicked and kicked at the offensive, very jury-rigged generator as the owner shook his now healing hand from the third degree burn. " Rassum frassum, frikkin-frakkin' blanketty-blank generator! "

" Wade! "

" WHAT?! That totally doesn't count as cursing! It's vintage Yosemite Sam, woman! You can take away my South Park, but you cannot take my Looney Tunes! Never, ya hear?! You keep out of my collection! "

" Nobody is messing with your DVDs! Come eat! "

That was about all it took to get his mood back up from the serotonin crash it had taken from the frustration of the damn generator. Food. " UNION BREAK! "

~*~*~

It was a small banquet of hot dogs and about a pound of french fries. Every hot dog dripping with ketchup and mustard and relish. When Deadpool saw it, he fell to his knees.

" The Super Chief Academy Style One Pound Hot Dog Buffet...You...You remembered. " Immediately, he threw his arms around her middle and sobbed against her stomach.

Ororo made a face that suggested she was trying to smile after maybe years of being out of practice and patted the top of his head. " Well. You haven't eaten in three days..."

Deadpool would have completely ignored that sentiment to continue the re-running of the Two Stupid Dogs episode in his head, if he hadn't shifted just so against her. Immediately, his cartoon switched off. " And you haven't either."

Only now did she attempt to dislodge him from being latched onto her. " You need to eat. Keep up your muscles. "

" Innit that cute? But it's WRONG! " Lenses narrowed in her direction and he stood. " I need you to not die of starvation while I'm looking for the third season of Golden Girls out there. "

White hair obscured half of her face as she turned her head. " I thought you found that two weeks ago..."

" It was bootleg! You know how bad that quality is? I can't tell Blanche from Sophia! And that is _not_ acceptable! PLUS. No special features! That's half the fun of the DVD right ther-- " Abruptly, the merc with a mouth stopped himself and pointed at her while glaring suspiciously. " --Ohohoho. You're a slick one, you. Trying to change the subject on me, distract me with Bea Arthur! Well, you would have gotten away with it if not for those meddling kids and their dog! " Rambling as he was, Deadpool went around behind her and all but carried her to the table to sit. Ororo tried to get up as soon as her butt hit the cushion, but he just pushed her right back down again by the shoulders. " Oh no you don't. Eat. "

It was actually a bit relieving to see her show a bit of stubbornness. " You cannot keep me here and force me."

" Can so! Cause I'm strong to the finish cause I eat's my spinach. You would be too if you'd eat, so get started, Olive Oyl! " One hand was removed from her shoulders to hold a hot dog in front of her face.

Huffing, she took it from him and took a vengeful bite of it. Once she swallowed, Deadpool released her and teleported to the other side of the table to begin feasting himself. Ororo mumbled something around her hot dog and regarded him with the same disposition of an upset child.

Deadpool jerked his head up and wagged a condiment slick hot dog at her from across the table. " Hey! Don't think you're too big to go over my knee, young lady! It'll hurt you a lot more than it hurts me! " He probably would have been a lot more intimidating without the meat by-product in his hand, but he intended to eat it, and it would take too long to put it down, draw his katana, threaten her, then put it away, and pick up the hot dog again.

Storm gave him a challenging look, and folded her arms; refusing to touch another hot dog. Deadpool paused in his frenzied eating, with a hot dog in his mouth. Lenses narrowed in her direction, before he shoved it in with a finger and pushed away from the table with both hands. His hands then moved to tighten his gloves as he stood and went to come around the table.

" All right, all right! " Storm relented, grudgingly and picked up another bun.

~*~*~

" Hello cup. Hello spoon. Hello butterknife. You're looking threatening today. "

Anyone else would lose patience with the mercenary doing dishes with them. Deadpool insisted on greeting each and every individual dish and piece of silverware before he washed it, and bidding it goodbye before he put it away. In between, he hummed the theme song for All in the Family, and passed the now clean cup to her. " Bye cup. Bye spoon. Bye butterknife."

But it was what kept her grounded here. As much as she liked to pretend that things were the way they used to be. Deadpool was not Scott, Jean, Logan, or the Professor. Though sometimes he liked to try and imitate them, his impressions were as far as his talent went.

Before she could begin to dwell too much on the memories of her friends who weren't around anymore, the merc with a mouth bumped her with his hips and pointed to the plate in her hands. " You're being very rude, 'Roro. You've been fondling that plate for almost five minutes now, and you haven't even greeted it. I'll not sit by and watch such social injustice, you hear?! I'm going in the living room where the civilized people retire! "

And with that, he whacked either cheek lightly with the towel the previously wet drink glasses were resting on. Then threw it down on the counter and marched into said living room with his nose high enough in the air for him to bump it on the underbelly of an airplane. Storm blinked and looked down at the very dry plate in her hands. " Sorry plate. Didn't mean to get fresh with you."

The plate gave no indication of accepting her apology or not, so she simply put it away and followed Deadpool into the living area. A partial roof kept most of the light inside the room as he was flipping channels rather mindlessly. He perked up when she came into the room and awkwardly stood in the doorway.

" I hope you learned your lesson about etiquette and dignity. Now. Wanna play strip poker? "

~*~*~

Deadpool had his own problems, mentally. He knew that, he'd been that way for a long time, going on longer time. He was used to zoning out on his own tangents and coming back to something he didn't even know he was talking about. He was also inclined to copy the antics of a certain roadrunner and coyote whenever he found one of _them_ in a patrol. His insanity was no stranger to him. He _used_ to have bad days and good days. But now, with everyone he knew except one person missing and/or more likely dead, he had nothing but good days. As 78% of those people were the kind that would inconvenience his Maude salvage operation with useless and random attacks on his life.

'Roro has bad days. Sometimes she sleeps too long, and she wakes up screaming and he has to knock her out before their home is leveled. Sometimes, she roams around at night talking to people who aren't there anymore. But he doesn't mind because Scott and Jean tell him to shut up, and Wolverine tells him to mind his manners 'round the lady or he'll have 'etiquette' carved into his hide, and it almost feels normal. Sometimes, she sets too many plates at the dinner table, but Deadpool doesn't say anything about it. He says other things, but nothing about the empty seats. It is his clear intent to have her know as much about Dorothy Zbornak as he does, if not more because she's actually a woman and will go through menopause one day if mutation doesn't forbid.

He found her by accident. He'd come to the X-Mansion to raid armaments, annoy Wolverine, maybe smack him around a little, and eat their food before moving on. He shouldn't have been so surprised to find it a smoldering shell of what it used to be, but he was. Somehow he thought an in-house supply of phenomenal cosmic power would dent _them _but it apparently hadn't made much of a difference.

He had been about to leave with a small haul over his shoulder when he found a pile of bodies. Various X-Men and women stacked almost like big slumber party. Storm was at the top, draped over the body of Kitty Pryde. He thought she was just as dead as the others, but she opened her eyes when he came closer to check on them. (read: check them for weapons.) He'd pulled a gun on her, just out of instinct, or habit, but she didn't flinch. Just stared at him over the barrel of his weapon with dull, lifeless eyes.

He'd bombarded her with questions, some of them pertaining to what happened to the X-Mansion, most of them rather useless. She didn't even blink, or tell him to shut up. Not even when he made a crack about Kitty being dead weight.

He'd been expecting a thunderbolt up the ass at least. But the lack of any reaction was much more worrisome than his ass blistering. And he hated his ass blistering. This was Storm after all. The one who always kept it together. Life crisis? Everything's fine! Family in danger? We're still cool. World about to end? That's no big deal. World actually _does _end and she loses **everything**. All at once.

It wasn't his problem. He couldn't fix his own insanity, how could he begin to help someone else heal? Deadpool walked away with the intention of walking right on out of her probably delusion filled life. But that dragging sound behind made his stomach drop. He didn't want to turn around, but he did.

Ororo was trying to pull the massive body of Beast out from under a piece of ceiling and wall. But she couldn't even hope to do it. Yet there she was still trying to drag him out. An eyeball rolled past her when she fell from tugging too hard, and she watched it passively. Then pushed herself up to begin trying all over again.

Wade couldn't take it. He'd seen his share of insanity, usually in the early morning hours when some event caused the Golden Girls to not air at their usual time. But there were supposed to be things he could count on. And now that that wasn't the Lifetime network, and it wasn't that the X-Men or some other such branch thereof wouldn't save the day and make it all okay so he could have his TVLand back, well, it was going to have to be that Storm of said X-Men was not comatose from the neck up. That meant not letting her climb back onto that pile of bodies she apparently had stacked for herself and not letting her rot like the rest of them.

His logic was simple, even for him. Stick around long enough for Storm to get her head back on straight, (because once and X-Man, always an X-Man and X-Men don't leave their own!) and she'd be putty in his hands for gratuitous sexual repayments once she was back to normal.

~*~*~

The first time Deadpool had asked Storm if she'd sleep with him, she'd needed clarification for what he'd meant. The first time she asked him to sleep with her, he _should _have asked for clarification for what she meant.

And warned him that she hogged the covers.

" Oh, I don't believe this. " Wade huffed as the covers were taken from him yet again. Granted, he wasn't really cold since he and she remained fully clothed despite his best efforts. (Electric shock wasn't anymore pleasant in bed than it was outside of it, he'd learned.) Sleeping in her bedroom by herself had ended up being a bad idea. She kept waking up thinking she was in the past and being shocked with the future. Wade figured that's what he was there for, so she would remember when she woke up; without the pain. And at least, not have to face the nightmares alone. He knew too well what that was like in his own bed. But dammit, in his own bed he had more than a corner of a sheet. " You don't even get cold and you've got both sheets! "

" I am _trying _to sleep Wade. " Oh, is that how it was?

" Well I'm _trying _not to rent my backside out as a temporary home for Eskimos. Gimme that sheet! "

A short tug-o-war ensued over the placement of the sheets before Ororo yanked him and the sheets over to her side of the bed and held onto both. Wade blinked. " Are you coming onto me, Ms. Munroe? "

Without even opening her eyes, she lifted up to plant a kiss on the top of his mask, so fast he wasn't even sure she did it, and then cuddled back down into her pillow. " Goodnight, Wade."

~*~*~

And Deadpool thought _he_ was persistent.

" Wa~ade? " She says with those doe eyes that often have him teleporting into what was left of town for one reason or another.

" What is it this time, Farore? First it's the Kokiri Emerald, then it's the Goron Ruby, next it's the Zora Sapphire. You goddesses just love bossing guys with swords around, don'tcha?! " His hand is already on his teleportation belt. He knows better than to try and fight her over it. Of all the parts of her to come back to her first, that damn girly part that knows how to manipulate his machismo before he knows it.

She gives him a flirty giggle. And _uh oh_, that's always trouble.

" Will you show me your face?"

Yup. Trouble. Not this again. This is the fourth day in a row she's asked. Quick, say something witty to make her laugh then subtly change the subject! " And ruin the sexy air of mystery about me? Not on your life, sister! I can't cook, and you kill things with the sky! That's all I got. Speaking of cooking, what's for dinner? Cause I'm sure you don't want me to make beans again..."

" Wade."

" I mean, I know you have magical inclinations, Farore, but even you have to admit the magical fruit has it's limits. Plus I only know two ways to cook'em. In the can and in a bowl. That's what the military taught me, cause it's the military and they do that to you. Better than rations though. Even _I _can't regenerate from the taste of those things, yuck! "

" Wade. "

" Seriously. This one time, at band camp--"

" **Wade! **"

Dammit. Why does she have to go and look like that when she says his name? That eyes-white-over thing was darn cute when she was mad at him. Thunder rumbling was a _little_ unsettling though. Oh sure, when she wants him to get something, she can't control the weather enough to fly. But when she gets mad, she sure can aim a bolt of hot sky." What? "

" If you think making me mad is going to make me forget, then you've got another thing coming." She wags a finger in his face, and he's relieved because she's acting like the teacher she used to be.

" Cmo~on. You know you can't stay mad at me. You've seen me in yellow panties."

She makes a sound somewhere between a giggle and a snort. Aha! Success! Houston, we have laughter. " Good God, those were just _awful_."

He gives a dismissive wave. " Ah, you don't know what you're talking about. Cable was all into those. He was like 'dayum'."

And then she's laughing again, and Wade feels a lot less like the last man on earth. In fact, he's about to crack another joke, and oldie but a goodie, when she stops his mouth from moving with a finger. There's sincerity in those baby blue eyes that make his ol'bloodpumper feel things it shouldn't. Well, what's the worst that could happen? The shock of his ugly mug is enough to kick start her system, she throws him out and goes back to being good ol' Stormy again. Or he makes her go even more crazy than she is.

" Pffft. Fine. But I'm not catching you if you faint. " He so will anyway.

" I won't faint. " And she's actually eager!

Figuring it best to do it like a band-aid, Wade pulls his mask off and turns his eyes to focus on the floor. Better the burnt carpet than her revulsion. " There! Now you see? Go ahead, start screamin', I'll wait. "

But she doesn't scream. She doesn't make much of any noise. And that compels and scares him enough to look up at her. Those baby blues are filled with tears unshed. Compassion and sympathy and anger and fear and pain for his pain, and a bunch of other things he can't even name reside with them.

He's almost grateful that she opens her arms to him and embraces him. Not because it puts him in a prime position for copping a feel, for once it's the furthest thing from his mind, but because he doesn't know if his heart can take it if she keeps looking at him like that. " So...does this mean I get pity sex? Cause I'll take pity sex."

She doesn't laugh. Just holds him tighter and lets the tears fall against his shoulder. He'd forgotten what it felt like for a woman to cry on him. It wasn't as nice a memory as he might have thought beforehand. " Hey. Come on Farore, it's not so bad. So I don't got looks. I more than make up for it with my wickedly charming personality, and amazing talents. Not cooking, obviously, but I dance a mean jig and you should see me with a pair of knitting needles. I knit like the wind! Uh...a very masculine, very deadly wind. Ew. I just called myself a fart. "

His distress level goes down when she laughs again.

~*~*~

She'd found a body once. Somehow, he'd missed one when he had taken over her body retrieval operation upon his arrival. And just his luck, it had to be Cyclops sans visor with his eyes wide open. Deadpool had been out patrolling the grounds in a circular pattern, to make sure none of _them_ were surrounding he and Storm without either of their notice when a perfectly clear blue sky turned black as ash with clouds so thick.

Thunder that made his teeth rattle and a long, anguished scream had him sprinting back to the house in such a hurry, he didn't even think to teleport there. He'd come just in time to see her obliterate the rest of a piece of a wall that had been hiding the body. The bottom half of what used to be Cyclops was just a mess of meat and long dried blood.

Deadpool didn't know what to say. So he figured he'd just talk until he did. But before he could get more than her name out of his mouth, she started screaming again. This time lightning came down just to the left of the body and herself. Momentarily blinded, Deadpool threw his arm up to ward off the light. If she kept that up, she'd either bring down the house or kill hersel...

It was only because he'd teleported over her that he'd prevented her from electrocuting herself via her own mutant power. Shoving her body down, Deadpool covered her with his own but made no contact with her actual body, because from the sound of the storm above their heads, she would try and strike herself again.

He took every bolt without falling onto her. Blistering and baking even as she screamed and her eyes were wild with grief and pain. But she couldn't keep it up forever. Eventually she tired, and he stopped smelling his own flesh cooking.

When he looked down at her again, she was staring at him with horrified eyes. " Wade...I...are you..."

" Don't! " He recoiled when she reached for him. He quickly grabbed a katana from his behind, pulling it out to grab it by the blade, then shove it in the ground. A quick bolt of static electricity crackled around the embedded blade, then nothing.

He'd been about to say something, when he did a double-take at Cyclops' body to their right. She had been holding his limp hand in her own during that breakdown. Gently, he unclasped her hand and squeezed it to make sure she was still grounded, still with him, there, in the present. " You can't hold onto him anymore, 'Roro. You have to hold onto me now. I know that's not really comforting. I'm bad at this...hero thing. I mean it, I really suck. But there ain't no other way to put it. I'm all you got. And you're all I got. "

" Wade...why did you..." Too many things in those blue eyes directed at him. He averted his gaze.

" Ch'. I was just making sure my healing factor wasn't on the fritz, that's all. Nothing to worry about. (Man, that stings!) That's a very nasty surprise to have in the middle of a fight, let me tell ya. No, wait. I take that back. A grenade to the face is a very nasty to surprise, a malfunctioning healing factor is like the ultimate party foul. " He removed his blade from the ground and slid it back in its' scabbard. " Next time you want to throw a tantrum, aim outside, you could have hurt yourself, and then where would we be? Starving, that's where! Starvin' like Marvin the Martian while you're healing up. You know I can't cook! Women...I go to check out a new area to patrol just once and you go all to pieces over it."

This time she did a little better with the smiling thing. It almost didn't look practiced.

Deadpool draped an arm around her shoulders and led her very much _away_ from the body. " Stick with me kid. You'll fly like paper and be high like planes in no time."

~*~*~

Why did bad guys always have such damn lousy timing?

They were in the living room, watching TV. Well, more precisely, watching the third season of Golden Girls DVDs that Deadpool had finally come upon the good fortune of finding. The theme song wasn't even over yet when the glass of milk on the coffee table began to ripple of its own accord. Deadpool growled in irritation while Ororo huddled against his side.

" Do we have to play that game again, Wade?"

" Really? Is this really going to happen right now?_ Really_? They haven't even fired the housekeeper yet. " That damn chattering, metallic sound they made was getting louder. There weren't as many this time as before though. That was a really good sign. " Looks like it, Farore. Unfortunately, some guys just can't get the message that no means no. "

She whimpered and hid her face in his shoulder. " I do not like that game. "

" They don't either." He rubbed her back idly. This paternal thing was getting easier all the time." That's why we don't have to play it so often. But not to worry, toots. After that last round, their numbers are thinning something awful. I know how to handle them now. Pretty soon they'll be on the endangered species list and the WWF will have _another_ reason to hate me. Now off with you," He stood and pulled her with. Then faced her towards the stairs. " Up to your room."

Ororo gave him the look of a small child that did not want to be separated from their parent, but ascended the stairs obediently anyway. Deadpool was looking forward to the day when either she defied him and came to fight alongside him, or neither of them had to worry about fighting at all.

" Wade? " The X on his shoulder lit up. " Can you hear me? "

" Loud and clear, Farore! " He was checking over his armaments before heading outside to deal with _them_.

" Is there anything I can do? " She was asking, and it was a good sign of progress that she was trying. But her control of her powers wasn't stable enough for her to be able to help him in the middle of combat. Well, maybe...

" You know that really, really ugly statue in the middle of the courtyard? In about a two minutes, could you strike it down with all your glory? "

There was the sound of shifting. " Yes. But how does that help you? "

" It makes me feel better, I hate that damn thing. Gives me the creeps. The eyes follow me when I'm patrolling! "

It really does make him feel better when she laughs. " Anything else? "

" Oh, I don't know. Why don't you sing me a nice little song? We should be done playing by the time you get to the end. " It was partially to distract her from the sounds and sights of battle. But it was mostly because Deadpool always wanted a soundtrack to his fights. While she was entertaining him with some little pop song she no doubt heard from being around her students, the world slid in front of his eyes as he teleported outside to be faced with enemies on a suddenly overcast day.

" Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu Tsui Sen! " Just like that, one of them that was lagging behind the others was cleaved clean in half.

His appearance did the trick. They stopped their march on the mansion and focused solely on him. Swords drawn, Deadpool counted about seventy as Storm sung in his ear. He did have to praise her song choice to some degree. At least she still had her sense of irony. _" It's never too soon to send out all the invitations to the last night of your life~. "_

Suddenly inspired, Deadpool's voice overpowered her own as he lept into the mess of organic rock and metal._ " Lordy, Lordy, Lordy! I can't help it, I like to party! It's genetic! " _It was. He blamed Wolverine and his upbringing. Two minutes were up however, and the dark clouds parted to rain down a fat thunderbolt that cleared out about fifteen of his adversaries. He's had to speak with Storm about comedic timing and stealing his thunder. _" It's elec~trify~ing! Wind me up, watch me go! " _Slash after slash, he was getting good at the damage combination it took to take a single one of them down. Now he really was the best at whatever Wolverine did, since Wolverine wasn't around to argue otherwise with his own body count. _" Where he stops, nobody knows! It's a good excuse to be a bad case of death for you! And you! And you! And you! And you! "_


End file.
